"See How We Have Boundaries During the Holidays? Very Demure. Very Mindful."

Hi friends!

Happy Thanksgiving week, if you celebrate. As a therapist, I can say two things about the holidays and they are both true: 1) The Holidays are Hard without Boundaries, and 2) The Holidays with boundaries can also be hard, even if you love the season, even if your family is healthy, even if you like the hustle and bustle. And here's why: any change in routine is hard during this time of year. Gee, routine changes seem to be par for the course these next two months. Kids are out of school randomly. Your work wants you to host an extra holiday party, that no one wants to go to. There's like 32 potlucks you have to participate in. Your husband just told you about his Christmas party for work, and it's next week. Gasp. Oh, and you haven't quite figured out how to navigate the conversation at the dinner table if it turns political or spicy. And, if you're lucky (or you don't plan ahead like me), you still haven't bought any Christmas gifts yet. Yipee!

Doesn't this sound like a joy-filled, relaxing holiday season? Or does your holiday season look like the scene below?

Here's the thing: you can choose not to participate in holidays altogether, which I know some people are doing. Certainly okay if you want to do that. But, for most of us, we want to enjoy the holidays without the stress. And that is also okay, too. How do we do that? Boundaries enters the chat. You set expectations up ahead of time with your family and friends and coworkers so that everyone in your life knows what you're about. Boundaries allow you to know where you responsibilities lie and where they end. So, now is a good time to practice boundaries in order to help you have a less stressful holiday experience.

Here are 5 Example Boundaries You Can Set This Year to Make the Holiday Season Less Stressed and More Simple:

1. "No, I won't be able to do that. Thanks for thinking of me though." - Insert this line in any situation you are in that is causing you to feel undue stress. Random office potluck? No thanks. You get invited to go caroling but it conflicts with your veggin' out time after work? No thanks. Your mom wants you to bring 3 sides and she hasn't asked anyone else to bring anything to the holiday meal? No thanks.

2. "I can see how that makes you feel, and here's how it makes me feel..." Use this one liner anytime a topic comes up that isn't one you'd like to spend hours on. And you get to pick how much you share about your feelings with the person you're saying it to. So, if your Uncle Jimmy wants to debate politics, you can acknowledge that you see his feelings (not that you agree with them!), and also share what you feel. And then, here's the kicker, don't argue about feelings. There's no point. Feelings actually aren't facts, so we don't need to argue about them anyways. -- In fact, use that line too, if you want!

3. "This year, we have set a budget per person for gifts. It's $50 per person (insert the amount you can *actually afford in here)." Ideally, communicate this one early and often to your family and friends. It's okay to set limits on gifts. Or to offer to go to dinner with someone or have an experience with them instead. Memories often are worth more than stuff anyways!

4. "I wish that I could accommodate that request, but I can't." This line comes in handy at any point where you feel like the request in mention is asking for too much (a.k.a. hugging your Grandpa who always makes you uncomfortable physically) or if the ask is one that you really truly cannot support (like when someone asks you to invite a family member that you cannot and will not be able to get along with, no matter what). Notice how I didn't explain why I can't accommodate said request up above. Explanations aren't always necessary, and sometimes they lead to more of a kerfuffle.

5. "Here's where we will be going for _____ holiday and how long we will be able to stay at each gathering." Communicating where you will be and how long you are going to stay helps you keep the fence posts up, so to speak, so you don't find yourself carried away in a stampede of holiday fun (or an argument with your grandma over Tim Walz). Pick a time lower than you think you'll actually stay, so you can leave a situation if you need to, and if you are having a good time, you can stay longer than that. Easier to loosen up boundaries, than it is to tighten them up later.

Additional Advice: Boundaries express our own behavior/expectations. They aren't ultimatums designed to manipulate someone else's behavior. By using the following formula, you'll establish boundaries that are actionable, rather than empty statements meant to give the illusion of significance without truly conveying your values or concerns.

"If ____ happens/keeps happening/doesn't happen, then I will ______ (leave the room, stop by after that person has left, find another time to come visit you, have to leave the gathering, etc.)."

Example: someone keeps offering you a drink but you've declined because you've cut back on alcohol. "If I'm offered another drink, then I will have to leave the gathering. It's important to me to stay sober this year."

Notice we aren't telling a person to do something or stop doing something. We're just communicating what will happen should the problem behavior continue or if something important isn't occurring like it should.

Remember, people can't drive you crazy, if you don't give them the keys to the car.

Take Exquisite Care of Yourself,

Megan

Lessons from Literature: Tuck Everlasting: Could You Live Forever?

Hi Friends! I hope you all are doing well. I can't believe we are a week+ into November as I write this post. The years go by really fast (it seems that this only happens when things are going well in my life) or they pass by exceedingly slow (when shit is hitting the fan!). What about you? Do your years crawl by, or do you feel like you blink and it's already Thanksgiving?

Today, we're continuing our Lessons from Literature series. Last time, we focused on the book "Brave New World" by Aldous Huxley. Presently, we are focused on the book "Tuck Everlasting" by Natalie Babbitt. The novel focuses on a young girl, Winnie, who meets a peculiar family in the woods, The Tucks. She becomes enamored with Jesse Tuck, the seventeen year old boy, who the readers come to find out, is actually 104 years old. Jesse and his family drank from a mysterious spring of water 104 years ago, and have lived frozen in time ever since. They don't age. They can't die. They're immortal. The rest of the novel moves at a brisk pace, with Jesse giving Winnie a bottle of the spring water and asking her to drink when she turns 17, so they can be together forever. No spoiler alerts here, but I do urge you to go read this book, if you get the chance. It's absolutely lovely and heartbreaking and deep. Below are two of my favorite quotes from the novel:

"What we have, us Tucks, it's not living. We just are. Like rocks on the side of a mountain."

"Don't be afraid of death; be afraid of unlived life, you don't have to live forever, you just have to live!"

What's the lesson here? I think the main question is "Could you live forever?" And my follow up question, "If you could live forever, what would you change about your current life? Could you live forever living with everything in your life exactly as it is?"

For me, I wouldn't choose immortality. The idea of outliving the people I love sounds devastating. Imagine living forever and never seeing the world in any different lights or perspectives, because you know that you'll see it again, tomorrow and every day after that. Isn't half the beauty in the world captivating because it's finite? For example, have you ever looked at the face of a newborn baby and then followed them into toddlerhood and beyond? Part of why people reminisce about the 'newborn days' is because they have an end to them, which makes them precious.

It is an interesting thought, though, about what you would change if you were to become immortal. Would you continue to work? (Maybe not in the same way you do now.) Would you stay with the same partner? (Would marriages last if people knew they had to make it work forever? Till Death Do Us Part sounds like a looonngggg time already-- what if 'death' never came? What then?) Would you pursue something like a degree or the arts, because you know you have all the time in the universe to do so? Would you adventure more? Travel more? Enjoy food, music, dance, art more?

Perhaps the message we can learn from Tuck Everlasting is that you don't need eternity to make necessary changes in your life to live the rest of it meaningfully. Maybe we don't require immortal life in order to live full existences. Maybe all we need is an appreciation for the now.

And, if you're curious about what living life meaningfully would look like for you, give me a shout via email at info@giftofgritcounseling.com, or schedule a consultation call with me here.

Take Exquisite Care of Yourself,

Megan

'I Don't Want to Be Here': 20 Normal Grief-Related Thoughts After Your Child Dies

Hi friends,

I hope you are doing well. Since one of the groups of people I help are bereaved parents (yuck-who chose that title?), I thought I would write a normalizing post. Where we, well, normalize all the thoughts I've heard many clients utter after their child has died.

• "I wish I could move on already." The weight of grief can be overwhelming, and some parents may find themselves longing for relief, which can feel like a betrayal to the memory of their child.

• "I should have done more / I could have saved them." This self-blaming thought can arise, even in situations beyond a parent’s control, as parents feel responsible for their child's safety.

• "I feel jealous of other parents." Watching others continue with their lives, especially those with children, can bring up envy, guilt, and frustration. For example, seeing the pictures of everyone else's children growing up on social media, while your image of your child remains static, and perhaps, even frozen at the place where you saw them die.

• "It’s easier not to think about them." Avoidance can sometimes feel like the only way to cope, though it may also lead to feelings of guilt for not honoring the child’s memory more.

• "I feel angry at my child for leaving me." Though it may sound harsh, some parents feel anger toward their child for "leaving" them, especially if the child’s death involved choices or situations the parent might have warned against.

• "My family or partner doesn’t understand my grief." Everyone grieves differently, and feeling disconnected from those who are also mourning can lead to frustration, loneliness, and shame.

• "I wonder if I even want to keep going." or "I don't want to be here anymore." The despair of losing a child can lead parents to question their own will to live, which can be a frightening and isolating experience.

• "Life has no purpose anymore." Losing a child can feel like the world has lost its meaning, making it difficult to care about daily routines, responsibilities, or future plans.

• "I don’t want to talk about them with anyone." Some parents may want to shut down conversations about their child or feel numb or exhausted by discussions, which can lead to guilt about not honoring their child.

• "I regret not spending more time with them." Parents may look back and fixate on moments they believe they could have spent better or differently, even if they were doing their best at the time.

• "Maybe it’s better this way / Maybe it’s for the best." In complex situations, parents may have fleeting thoughts that question the child’s or family’s struggles in life, which can lead to shame for even considering these possibilities.

• "I’m afraid to be happy again." The thought of finding joy after such a loss can feel like a betrayal to the child’s memory, causing parents to feel stuck in their grief. Joy is also a really vulnerable emotion in itself, because in order to feel joy, you have to risk the possibility of pain again. Like Brene Brown says, "We can't selectively numb emotions. When we numb anger, we also numb empathy. When we numb sadness, we also numb joy."

• "I’m disappointed by the lack of support from friends and family." Experiencing this grief can also reveal unexpected disappointments with others' reactions or lack of understanding, leading to feelings of bitterness or isolation. And if you're a people-pleaser, you can feel kinda shitty for not liking the way people in your life did or did not show up for you.

• "I don’t know who I am without being their parent." Parents often define themselves by their roles in their children’s lives, and losing a child can lead to an identity crisis that feels shameful or disorienting.

• "I resent the people who are trying to comfort me." Well-meaning gestures from friends and family can sometimes feel hollow, intrusive, or unhelpful, leading to resentment and guilt for feeling this way toward supportive people.

• "I feel relief that the struggle is over." If the child was ill or the family endured significant hardship, a parent might feel some relief that the suffering has ended, which can be a deeply guilt-inducing thought.

• "I feel disconnected from my other children (or family)." The depth of grief for one child can sometimes overshadow relationships with other family members, leading to shame about not being as present or attentive.

• "I wish I didn’t have to talk about this with people." Grief can be so heavy, that even sympathetic questions or check-ins feel like a burden, creating a conflict between needing support and wanting solitude. Plus sometimes, you just want to go to the grocery store, or church, or to work and not feel the tears well up when someone asks you "How are you doing?" with that sympathetic smile on their face.

• "I wonder what life would have been like without them." It’s normal to reflect on different life paths, even imagining alternate realities, but this can feel shameful, as if it's a dismissal of the child’s impact and presence.

• "I’m angry at the world for not stopping." The world continues on, despite the profound loss, which can feel incredibly invalidating and frustrating, as if people don’t care or the loss isn’t acknowledged by society.

Guess what... You aren't crazy. You are not losing your mind, or your empathy, or your heart. You're not a bad parent, or bad person. You aren't going to lose it and kill yourself. You don't deserve this pain. You're grieving the death of a person you loved so intensely that it causes a physical ache in your bones when you think of them being gone. You weren't meant to lose a child. You were meant to outlive your baby, the one person you love more than the moon and the stars, and you didn't. They were supposed to bury you in the ground, and instead, you had to pick out a casket for them. You had to plan a funeral. You had to tie up the loose ends of a life that wasn't even fully lived. And you would give anything, ANYTHING, to have them back. And now, your thoughts are racing, trying to reason away the despair. Because your brain's job is to keep you safe. And it thinks that your emotional pain is unsafe. In fact, your mind cannot distinguish between physical and emotional pain, as both activate the same parts of the brain. So your mind thinks that the grief you are carrying is the same as a broken leg or a terrible third degree burn, and it's trying to anesthetize you so you can keep going.

I'm here to tell you, you will keep going, and your brain's attempts at reasoning or production of any of the thoughts above don't make you a jerk or insensitive or bring dishonor to your child's memory. These thoughts are symptoms of a deep love lost, of a relationship and bond that transcends time and space, but may feel intensely one-sided right now. It won't always feel this hard, and someday, I promise you, you will wake up and your first thought won't be to cry or to numb or to avoid your grief. You will think, "What am I going to do with today?" and you will smile again. Not today, but one day in the future, you will feel like you want to be here and there with your child (and you won't feel any guilt for either thought).

And if you need a therapist in the meantime who gets it, like really truly gets it, I'm right here, just a click away.

Take Exquisite Care of Yourselves,

Megan